


Meeting Mia

by Ophiel



Series: The Dalish Curse [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tabletop Gaming, F/M, Honeymoon, In-Laws, Kissing, Mages and Templars, Magic-Users, Magical Realism, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 23:30:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4938130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophiel/pseuds/Ophiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn and Cullen, now married, make their way to Mia's vineyard near South Reach; where Evelyn discovers country-boy proposals, puppy-dog eyes, the fact that there's more to marriage than she anticipated, and sinister news of Dalish attacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting Mia

The ruins were old, ancient, from a time when Elves shaped the world with their very thoughts. The spires had risen to the clouds, as delicate as frosted sugar yet as strong as stone. But the ages and the earth had now claimed them all, save the main keep. Trees grew where ancient elves once walked, wide paths crossing the forest floor, kept clear by the ambling Sylvans. Not even elves ventured here now, for many had forgotten this ancient keep.

 

But there was a voice now. A lone figure walked through the forest towards the keep, his rage evident in his stride. The voice called out to the elf, cajoling, entreating, demanding… The elf vanished into the keep, never to be heard from again.

 

+++

 

The horses moved at a stately pace along the West Road of Ferelden. It was nearly summer, and the rains were incessant as spring released its grip on the country. Evelyn rode with her hood up, one hand holding the side of their covered wagon. Cullen held the reigns of the horses confidently in his gloved hands. Evelyn liked the quiet way he did things, so assured of himself. She was feeling far from assured.

 

From afar, no one would suspect that the Inquisitor and the Commander of the Inquisition were driving a wagon down a muddy Ferelden road. To everyone, they were just another travelling couple. With her cloak drawn, no one saw where her arm had been severed at the elbow to prevent the mark from killing her. Not to mention the fact that no one knew her face, or his. To most people, their titles were as real as a dream in the Fade. Remove the armour and the magic, and they were everyday people. It was going to be a peaceful journey, they said. Evelyn had asked Cullen to leave his sword and shield behind. He had agreed when she said she wouldn’t bring her staff. She didn’t tell him that her staff and spectral blade hilt were under the wagon, hidden in a panel.

 

“You don’t have to be out here,” he said as she adjusted her cloak about her to keep off the rain.

 

“I want to,” she replied stiffly. “The wagon is stuffy anyway.” A snore erupted from the back of the wagon, followed by tiny barks. “There’s that too.”

 

Cullen chuckled. “He does snore sometimes, doesn’t he? But, we’re almost there, another two hours, if we’re lucky,” he added, squinting at the sky. “I can’t even tell what time it is.”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

Cullen looked at her with worry in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

 

Evelyn blinked, pulled from her thoughts, and glanced at him. “Nothing!” she said, laughing a little shrilly. “I was just- sleepy. You don’t have to worry about me just because I’m quiet.”

 

“Yes, because this response only reassures me that nothing is wrong indeed.” He put his hand on her knee. “Eve,” he said quietly.

 

With those eyes and the way they pleaded, it was like saying no to a puppy. She sighed. “I’m nervous, of course,” she said. “I’m a mage and a noble and... not whole… I know my way around princes and kings and lords, but when I think of facing your sister, suddenly I have no idea what to do or say.”

 

He took a deep breath, his grip reassuring on her knee. “Eve, that doesn’t matter. You’re a mage, they’ll adjust. You’re a noble, you’ll adjust, as well.”

 

She frowned, biting her lip. “And my arm-”

 

“Doesn’t matter in the least. Eve, I love you. You’re my wife. That’s all that matters to me.”

 

Evelyn smiled, reassured. “I don’t know how to do anything around a farm, though,” she said.

 

“Don’t worry, I already wrote ahead to warn them.”

 

“What?” Evelyn exclaimed.

 

“They wouldn’t expect you to, anyway, being a nob- guest.”

 

She leaned back against the wagon’s board, biting her thumbnail worriedly. He reached up to pull her hand away from her face. “Stop it,” Evelyn said, bringing her nail back. He pulled her hand away again and leaned in to kiss her, his lips tasting of rain.

 

“They’ll love you,” he assured her.

 

She took a deep breath and nodded. She was soaked to the skin and her hair was a mess. Her boots were muddy and already she knew the possibility of making a first impression based on looks was gone. Perhaps that was a good thing. Cullen’s family were the salt of the earth, they wouldn’t be impressed by titles.

 

The rain had lessened into a pervasive drizzle by the time they crested a hill and looked down into the valley. There, in the middle of the rolling hills, backed by the deep green of the Brescillian Forest, sat the small town of Vintiver. The town was half a day’s journey from South Reach, though it still fell under the bann’s protection. There were arbors and vineyards here, sprawling over the hills around the town. Two-storeyed farm houses dotted the fields, plastered white with arched windows, surrounded by wooden barns and other farm buildings. Evelyn smiled. “Despite the rain, it’s beautiful,” she said, taking in the scene under the gray sky.

 

Cullen smiled, steering the horse off the road and heading towards the fields. They took a small road through the vineyards. “Are these all yours?” she asked.

 

“My family’s,” Cullen replied. “We make quite a pleasant red.”

 

“Really? Why haven’t you brought some to Skyhold?”

 

“The way you drink? It’ll be gone in a day”

 

“Come on!”

 

“We can try some. The village usually mixes yields for sale, though.”

 

“I look forward to it!” That perked her up. “Why do you mix?"

 

"We don't have the capital to bottle our own," he said.

 

"That's something we should talk about, then," she smiled warmly.

 

Cullen met her smile. “I would like that.”

 

Evelyn saw them round the bend in the path, a pleasant house flanked by white plastered walls rose above the vines. She bit her lip, her nervousness rising once more. “I look horrible don’t I?” she asked urgently.

 

Cullen tried for a tactful answer. “Er.”

 

“Thank you, Cullen,” Evelyn chuckled despite herself. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

They entered the arched gateway, driving the wagon towards the door. The windows were glassed and lit from within. It looked extremely inviting. Chickens ran across the wet yard and into the barn, clucking and bobbing their necks as they dodged the horse’s hooves. “You have chickens!” Evelyn exclaimed, then wished she hadn’t sounded so excited. There was a snort from the back of the cart as their slumbering passenger awoke. The mabari that Cullen had bought at Halamshiral stared excitedly at the barn and barked its deep throaty bark.

 

“No, that’s an order,” Cullen said sternly, waving a finger at the dog and stepped down from the wagon. The dog barked and whined in the back of the wagon, laying its head down on the wet wood mournfully. Cullen came around to help her down, his hands on her waist. She spent years fighting demons, yet he still insisted he helped her on and off a wagon. She didn’t mind. That was the sort of man he was. Her boots crunched the gravel as she landed. “Ready?”

 

“No.”

 

The door slammed open. “Cullen Stanton Rutherford!” The voice was round and as warm as a hug. Evelyn turned to see a woman at the door, donned in a simple smock and apron with her honey blonde hair tied back from her face. She was slightly older than Cullen, her eyes the same colour as his. She was as tall as he was.

 

Cullen was wincing as she yelled his name. “Mia,” he began, but she was already running around the cart in the rain. She threw her arms around him and hugged him dearly. Cullen was laughing, though his eyes were wet as he returned the embrace. Evelyn stood by the side, her own tears coming to her eyes as she watched them reunite. Through all the distance that came between them, not once had Mia waned in her concern for her brother. They spoke no words, for no words were needed.

 

Evelyn wiped tears from her eyes. After a long moment, Mia took a deep breath and stepped away from Cullen. She wiped her own eyes with the corner of her apron. “That’s for coming home.” Then she punched him on the shoulder. “That’s for the short letters.”

 

Cullen winced, rubbing his shoulder. “I suppose I deserve that.”

 

Mia looked at Evelyn. “Hello,” Evelyn said with a stiff little wave.

 

Mia enfolded her in an embrace as well. The woman had a hug like a vice. “Maker’s mercy! We never thought Cullen would bring home a wife,” Mia laughed warmly.

 

Evelyn hugged her with her one arm. “Mia, thank you, I need to-” she choked a little.

 

Mia let her go and Evelyn took a deep breath, the wind knocked out of her. “Welcome home, Evelyn,” she grinned. “We hope you’ll be happy with us.”

 

“Thank you,” Evelyn said, her heart in her eyes. She was not expecting such… warmth. Her mother had never embraced her like this, not even after years in the Circle.

 

“Rickard!” Mia yelled. “Rick! Come see to the horse!” Mia took both their hands and led them inside the warmth of the house. The warmth hit them immediately. The house was cosy, with low, dark beamed ceilings and wooden floors. The walls were plastered as well, glowing with the light of the fire in the lit hearth. Carpets warmed the feet and tapestries hung from the walls. “It’s lovely,” Evelyn said, falling in love with the feel of the place. It was so inviting. Everything about it was welcoming.

 

“It took me forever to polish the floors. Boots off! We’ll get them cleaned tomorrow. You’re both filthy.”

 

“It was raining all the way from Redcliffe,” Cullen said, sitting on a low wooden bench by the door to pull off his boots and slip on the soft shoes Mia handed him. Evelyn unlaced hers and slipped them off to change into house slippers. A man came down the staircase to the upper floors. He had muddy brown hair touched by gray at the temples. His hair hugged his cheekbones, rakishly unkept. “Finally!” he grinned, catching Cullen’s hand and pulling him into a hug. “This is the Cullen Mia keeps talking about. You know, she said you weren’t all that easy on the eyes. How did you manage to convince this lovely woman to marry you?”

 

“What?” Cullen laughed.

 

“All the hits on the head I got,” Evelyn drily. “You know, how that affects the thinking.”

 

“Yes, that must be it,” Cullen rolled his eyes as Evelyn playfully jabbed him in the rib with her elbow. He pulled away. He was ticklish, a fact she delighted in.

 

“That’s how I married Mia, too,” Rickard sniggered, then dodged as Mia tried to hit him on the arm.

 

“Their horse needs a good rub down, Rick,” Mia said seriously. “It’s been walking in the wet.”

 

Mia wrinkled her nose at their muddy boots. “Give Rick a hand, Cullen,” she said.

 

“Yes, Mia,” Cullen said, perhaps automatically. He sat down to put his boots on again, casting a glance at Mia, and followed Rickard outside with the dog padding along happily beside him. For all that Mia owned a farm, she commanded like a noble, Evelyn noted.

 

Mia turned to her, taking Evelyn’s sodden leather cloak. “Come, I’ve prepared a bath for you,” she said. “And some clothing.”

 

“Mia, you’re a treasure,” Evelyn said earnestly.

 

Mia chuckled. “I am, aren’t I?” She led the way up the stairs, the walls lined with drawings on parchment delicately framed with rosewood. “Lovely, aren’t they?” Mia said, gesturing to the drawings.

 

“They are.”

 

“Cullen drew them.”

 

“What?” Evelyn blurted out. “He draws?”

 

Mia couldn’t help but laugh at Evelyn’s reaction. “Marriage is full of these little surprises, you’ll find,” she grinned. “How long have you been married?”

 

“Um, just this spring.”

 

“At Halamshiral?”

 

“Yes,” Evelyn blushed. “It was quite a surprise. We both just… did it.”

 

“Did what?” Mia blinked. “Are you withchild?”

 

“What! No! No, I’m not!”

 

“Don’t rush it,” Mia smiled. Evelyn was blushing to the roots of her hair. “Have I given offence?”

 

Evelyn bit her lip. “No, you just… surprised me,” she admitted with a smile. “No one’s asked me that before.”

 

“Most marriages in the country come with the wife either expecting or birthed already, it’s the country-boy’s proposal,” Mia said warmly. “I was just asking. I know nobles do it differently.” And there it was, Evelyn noted cynically and chose to say nothing. Mia opened the door to a room with a double bed and another lit fireplace. There was a large tub of hot water before the fire and some wash cloths. There was also a wash basin. The water steamed invitingly.

 

“Thank you,” Evelyn breathed happily.

 

“Take your time, dinner won’t be ready for a while yet,” Mia smiled and shut the door behind her.

 

Once the door was shut, Evelyn began to undress. Within a minute, she was wiping herself clean of the mud with water from the basin. Within five, she was in the tub, soaking to her neck, her dark hair flaring out in the water. She moaned happily as the warmth filled her.

 

“This one?” she heard a muffled voice outside the door. It was Cullen’s. She heard footsteps stop outside the door and it opened. Cullen stepped in, holding their packs from the wagon. “Where’s the wagon?” Evelyn asked, thinking of her staff and hilt.

 

“Outside,” Cullen said, shutting the door with his heel. “I thought perhaps Dog should sleep in the barn. Mia doesn't like animals in the house. You’re in the tub surprisingly fast.”

 

“I was keeping it warm for you,” Evelyn purred.

 

He chuckled and set the packs down by the bed, his own pack large with gifts for his family. He went to the wash basin with a clean washcloth and began to undress. Evelyn moved to the other side of the tub, watching him disrobe. She idly watched him wring the wet cloth, liking the way his forearms moved, the way firelight danced off his wet chest as he cleaned himself.

 

“How are you?” he asked, glancing at her.

 

“I’m enjoying the view,” she smiled.

 

“Yes, well, all those hits to the head,” he chuckled as he bent to wipe his calves down. “I meant, I meant with Mia.”

 

“She’s lovely,” Evelyn said. “But very loud.” Cullen laughed. “And she asked if I was withchild.”

 

Cullen froze, the cloth around an ankle.

 

“I’m not,” Evelyn evenly.

 

Cullen moved again, muttering something under his breath.

 

“She said it was the country-boy’s proposal,” Evelyn chuckled.

 

“Not all the time, but… most of the time,” Cullen admitted.

 

“Get in the tub already,” Evelyn grinned, making space for him. He climbed in, the water dangerously near the lip of the tub when he settled. Evelyn leaned against him in the tub, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. “Mia is lovely and Rickard seems funny. Do they have children?”

 

“No,” Cullen replied, leaning his arms on the lip of the tub. “They’ve been trying for years, from what I know.”

 

“I see.” She stared into the dancing fireplace as the drizzle abated outside. She felt him wrap his arms around her from behind. “We’ll have to talk about that soon too,” he said, kissing her wet hair.

 

Evelyn nodded, hesitant about that conversation. “We will,” she said. “When we get back to Skyhold.” Cullen only nodded, holding her close.

 

+++

 

Dinner was hearty and delicious. Mia was a master in the kitchen. The spiced nug was perfect, the dumpling stew was filling to the brim and the wine she served was amazing. “Mia, you must teach me,” Evelyn said, her eyes alight as she reached across the wooden table for another helping of nug.

 

“Gladly!” Mia laughed, passing her another loaf from the bread basket. “I’ll teach you all of Cullen’s favourite foods.”

 

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Cullen said brightly.

 

“Don’t get too hopeful that you’ll eat like this every day, the cook would skin me if I horned in on the kitchen,” Evelyn told Cullen.

 

“Not to mention we can’t have the Commander with a beer belly, can we?” Rickard asked.

 

“I’m not going to get a beer belly,” Cullen helped himself to another helping of stew. “I don’t even drink beer. Could you top up my glass, Eve?”

 

Evelyn rolled her eyes but did as he asked, filling his wine cup with the wine that Mia grew. Their wine was sweet and mellow, delicious with meats. Evelyn wondered if her mother would like to try some, and made a mental note to send a bottle or two to Ostwick. “When are Branson and Rosalie coming to visit?” Cullen asked.

 

Rickard glanced at Mia as he broke a loaf of bread. “Maybe tomorrow,” Mia replied with her smile fixed on her face. “We’ll have to see if the weather allows and the roads are safe.”

 

“Safe?”

 

“What? It’s nothing. We’ll go into town tomorrow,” Mia said. “Perhaps we should meet them there. Rosalie’s inn is doing well-”

 

“Mia,” Rickard cut in, a note of steel in his voice.

 

Mia glanced at him and sighed slightly. “It’s that your timing is a bit bad, Cullen,” she said. “It’s been a little unsafe on the road. We’re glad you were unmolested on your journey.”

 

“What’s been happening?” Cullen asked intently. Evelyn wondered if he knew he used his Commander’s voice on his sister.

 

Mia, it seems, was immune to taking orders from her younger brother, Commander of the Divine’s Guard or no. “Don’t worry, Warden Jarred has everything under control.”

 

“They suspect the Dalish are hunting people,” Rickard said. Evelyn’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Rick-” Mia began, but Rickard pat her hand calmly, his eyes hard.

 

He went on. “They came in some weeks ago to trade some of their wares for our Summersday celebration. Rosalie said there was some fight at the blacksmith’s. The clan left and then people on the road through the woods started turning up dead. Jarred has stepped up patrols and the deaths have stopped so far.”

 

Mia put her hand on Cullen’s. “You’re on holiday,” she said intently. “There’s trouble everywhere. You don’t have to step in here.”

 

“Rosalie has an inn?” Evelyn asked, nudging Cullen on the leg under the table.  

 

“Yes, the Green Arbor in town,” said Mia gratefully. “She married the innkeeper’s son. Branson lives in town as well.”

 

“Perhaps they could accompany us here tomorrow,” Cullen smiled.

 

“Branson?” Mia blinked. She sounded uncertain. “Well, I suppose he could. He did want to come.”

 

“What would go wrong?” Evelyn grinned.

 

“Not to mention you’re a mage,” Rickard added. Evelyn glanced at him worriedly. “I’ve never seen magic, but no one would possibly want to tangle with you - Dalish or no.”

 

“Right,” Evelyn laughed weakly. “Well, we might as well. I know I’m looking forward to seeing Aidan. I’ve heard so much about him.” She blinked. “Also, Dog should meet him!”

 

“Who gave the mabari that name?” Rickard asked curiously.

 

“Who else?” Evelyn sighed.

 

“The name serves perfectly fine,” Cullen insisted.

 

Dog turned out to have a huge helping of leftovers and bones from Mia’s kitchen that night. Evelyn accompanied Cullen to the barn to feed him. They walked through the sodden yard and into the quiet of the barn, Cullen holding Dog’s feeding bowl. As they opened the barn’s side door, they could hear Mia and Rickard in the kitchen. There seemed to be an argument afoot. “Probably over what Rickard said about the Dalish,” Evelyn said as they entered the barn, shutting the door behind them.

 

“Mia probably did not want us to know,” Cullen nodded. They looked at the dark barn lit by moonlight from a high window. The horses nickered skittishly in their stalls. Dog burst from a pile of hay, barking delightedly. It pranced around Cullen like a puppy, wagging its tail so hard its whole hind quarters swung.

 

It ran up to Evelyn. “No-” Evelyn began, but Dog stood on its hind legs and licked her across the face. “Argh!” Evelyn pushed the beast away, her hair plastered to her cheek with dog saliva. “Maker’s breath!” She wiped her face with her sleeve.

 

“He always liked you better,” Cullen laughed and set the feeding bowl down. Dog immediately forgot about Evelyn and went to eat noisily, gobbling the food with lip-smacking fervour. “What do you make of the Dalish?” Cullen asked as he stood up, watching Dog eat.

 

“I think it’s unusual,” Evelyn replied. “Tensions are not uncommon but killings instigated by the Dalish? That’s… strange.”

 

“Tomorrow we’ll speak to this blacksmith.”

 

“That is probably why Mia didn’t want to tell us,” Evelyn said, leaning against a barn post, her good arm reaching across to hold the stump of the other.

 

“They’re my family,” Cullen said. “I won’t si-”

 

“Sit by and ignore this,” Evelyn finished. “Neither will I. Branson and Aidan should be better here. The walls are decent, in case anything happens. The only question now is whether we need to bring Inquisition soldiers in on this, alert the crown or handle this ourselves.”

 

“We are not fighting,” Cullen said firmly. “You haven’t cast a spell since Halamshiral.”

 

“I’m not an invalid, Cullen,” Evelyn retorted. “And that matter is academic right now. We don’t know anything other than ‘Dalish Bad’. Even you can see that this situation is delicate.”

 

“We agree on that much,” Cullen said. He sighed. “I thought this would be a restful holiday.”

 

“For now, it is. We’re just visiting our relatives while, at the same time, poking our nose into business that doesn’t concern us. I’m not the Inquisitor and you’re not the Commander.” Dog finished his food and sat by Cullen’s feet, begging with its large brown eyes. “You both look alike.”

 

“He is a magnificent beast, I agree,” Cullen grinned.

 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I meant,” Evelyn gave in.

  
  



End file.
